Noah's First Birthday
by cruiscin lan
Summary: Noah Gray turns one!


Putting Elle in charge of the balloons was a bad idea, in retrospect. Even without trying she seemed to have an electrical charge, and each balloon clung to her clothing once she had inflated it. Ten balloons, twenty, thirty - varying colors, varying shapes and sizes.

"He's not even going to remember this," Elle muttered as she stood up; she had been sitting cross-legged on the floor. The balloons rose up with her. "He's too young."

"We're going to take tons and tons of pictures," Gabriel replied. "It won't matter whether he remembers it now, he'll have something to look back on when he's older."

"Well, next year, you're in charge of balloons."

"And let you bake the cake? You're no Betty Crocker."

"You know, they make perfectly good cakes at the bakery on the corner of Roosevelt Avenue."

"I'm not going all the way there to get something I make better at home."

Elle decided to drop the issue; it was no use arguing with a perfectionist. She strode up to the counter, the balloons rubbing and squeaking against one another as she moved, trying to catch a glimpse of the cake that Gabriel was currently decorating. He turned his back towards her. "You can't see it yet! It's not done!"

"I just want a taste!" she laughed, sneaking her arm under his and sticking her finger into the creamy vanilla frosting. She leaned forward, trying to lick the icing from her finger, when Gabriel grabbed her wrist and put her finger in his mouth. He wiggled his eyebrows, looking seductively over his glasses at her.

"Not right now!" she laughed softly. "Noah's still asleep."

"You started it," Gabriel pointed out.

As a couple, the two had had a rough start. After all, she had pushed him into a life of crime and he did almost to kill her on a beach in California. Had it not been for a last minute crisis of conscience. She had been reluctant to forgive him, but she was by nature so needy, so reliant on someone else to justify her own existence that she clung to him in spite of her fear of him. They hit the road together, independent finally from Pinehearst and Primatech and anyone who had once called them family or friends - they were free of all that.

When they realized they were going to be parents, Gabriel thought they should move back to Queens - it was large enough that they could easily be lost among the crowds, among the streets confusingly numbered. They found a cozy two-bedroom in Flushing near the Botanical Garden, where Elle took their infant son in his stroller while Gabriel worked two jobs as a mechanic (he was good at knowing how things worked, after all).

There were times when they realized they weren't well-matched for each other, or well-suited for the life they chose, but those times didn't matter when compared to the joy they got from hearing their son sigh in his sleep, watching him wiggle as he got comfortable in their laps, or combing his soft, blond, wispy hair away from his smiling face.

Today was his first birthday.

Neither Elle nor Gabriel were particularly adept at making friends, so the celebration was going to be strictly family-only: the three of them. The lack of party guests certainly wasn't going to stop them from making it the best birthday they could. It was going to be the kind of party they never had - cake, balloons, presents, photos.

Elle starting tying ribbons to the knots in the balloons, then tying them to the dining chairs in groups of two and three. "What kind of cake did you end up making?"

"Chocolate," Gabriel told her, adding a little flourish to the icing of the cake telekinetically.

"Chocolate?" Elle groaned. "Do you realize what a mess he's going to make? I told you either vanilla or yellow cake. Vanilla or yellow. Gabriel, he's going to ruin his birthday outfit, and if any crumbs get smushed into the carpet..."

Gabriel rolled his eyes; Noah started to cry in his crib. Elle stopped talking for a moment, but her glare reminded Gabriel that she was still mad at him. She went over and reached into his crib, lifting him up and cradling him in her arms. "Hey there, birthday boy," she cooed.

Gabriel draped a festive tablecloth over their tiny dinette table and set it with paper plates and plastic silverware while Elle changed Noah's diaper and dressed him in the outfit she'd picked out for him. Gabriel pulled Noah's high chair up to the table and Elle gently strapped him in. With a flick of her finger she lit the one candle on his cake. Gabriel set the timer on the camera and placed it on the edge of the table.

When it went off it captured the image of a still-sleepy twelve-month-old flanked on either side by his almost-ordinary beaming parents.


End file.
